Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1887-10-20

And there he went, to be struck
motionless with surprise on the thresh
old. What he had expected to see
was Crystabcl in Mysteries of terror
end grief, watched and tended by the
devoted heart-broken mother. What
he saw was Crystabel on her knees by
a low couch, her face white, still, and
fearless, her eyes on her mothers in
sensible face, her own hands eagerly
chatting those cold lifeless ones. the
creamy-hearted pearls still glowed in
her sunny hair and ciasped her white
throat.
In all her exquisite laees she knelt
there Ike an angel, and forgot her
own grief in trying to comfort her
mother.
She did not see him, and it was
several moments before he could suffi-
GENTLY recover himself TO advance and
speak TO her.
Can / do anything?"
She had started little and lifted
her eyes, stunned and dreary in their
unspeakable anguish.
Nothing, unless you can help me
save her., she said.
And he at once knelt beside her and
began rubbing one of the cold hands
with his warm vigorous ones.
you knew this?' she asked him;
and he maryelled Mt her voice, so mon
otonously cold and calm.
Eyes" he answered simply; "most
Of it. But did not dream of the end
ing.
She said no aore, nor did he. The
hours wore away, and grey dawn be-
gan TO superseae dusky night.
The dead was deeently composed,
with tue CHASTITY wound in his head
covered. The living had been won
from insensibility to drugged re-
semblance of restful sleep; the crowd
had dwindled, and still Crystabel
moved about the darkeucd house like
a dumb ghost in her lace robes, with
that awfully still anguish in her face
that almost drove Gilbert Chaloner
wild For he still remained. He was
an old friend--a younger brother in
all but blood to the dead mainland it
seemed to be his place now.
"Will you not rest2' he said TO her
nj last. For your mothers sake, |
beg of you, tiy at least
"Rest!' she repeated, turning her
eyes slowly TO him-the eyes that so
little while AGO had sparkled with
Joyous beauty, bnt that now seemed
stepped in stony speechless grief.
"What time have | for rest now,
and what would it be but mockcry?
No, no; nave had my day Of rest !
must work now.
In mingled establishment and grief,
he could have cried aloud al this
change in her. But knowing words to
be useless, he said no more. He only
went his way and wondered.
The world that speculated, and
talked, and gossiped, received but lit
tie satisfaction after all; Crystabel
| neither died nor went crazy. a
strength. a resolution, and depth of
| character that no one ever dreamed
the gay little butterfly could possess,
developed under the storms of adyer-
sity and trouble.
As she had said ON that terrible
night work she must, and work she
did earning her own and her mothers
| daily bread; and, when the gay world
no longer knew or sought her out she
felt that she was learning one Of life's
bitterest lessons, and chung with deep
er appreciation and tenderness to the
few-yery few-friends that were true
! in shadow rs in sunshine.
And in reaching the depths of her
! heart she found at last the love that
Gilbert ChaIoner had craved, and that
| had been buried under frivolous
gaiety; and there, all unknown to her,
| it had thrived in spite of neglect, but
now unearthed and fed with daily
thought, it grew to be her life's strong
est impulse when it was all too late
too late
For he never spoke of love now. He
was the trueSt, kindest, best of friends,
coming often to their humble home,
and never without some delicacy to
the invalid mother, who never recover
ed, but was wasting slowly away. He
took every interest that son and
brother could take, and watched over
them carefully, managing now and
then to help a little, in spite Of Crysta-
| bells pride.
But he never spoke on seemed to
! think of love, and Crystabcl bore her
aching heart as best she could, and
tried to hide any sadness or pain from
the mothers watchful eye.
But another blow was more than she
could bear, and when, in the summer
stiffness of night, the teaderly loved
and devoted mother dropped her
weary burden, and quietly passed from
troubled sleep to sleep everlasting,
| Crystabel tainted with a wild plead
| ing prayer on her lips to be allowed to
| die.
Gilbert Chaloner heard of it at once,
and with his Aeart filled TO bursting,
hurried to her, moved with n resou-
ton 10 take her. whether she would or
not and cherish her against further
grief and suffering; for CrysJabcl had
hidden her heart with sensitive pride.
He did not dream that the love he
crayed above all earthly things was
| his own at last.
A stiffness suggestive of death-hut
peaceful death. not wild and terror
! stricken like the otheu-restod over
| the little house, lying slumberously
warm Zen sine Sunshine.